The truth about Robert and Cora Grantham
by MaPetitBaboo
Summary: "Cora did not hate her husband. But she didn't love him either. No, she didn't love him. Not really. Not the way she had loved Loren. " What is the real story behind Cora and Robert's broken marriage? Who were Cora's previous lovers? How did Robert deceive his wife? An intense, romantic, and tragic two-part story that reviles it all.
1. Chapter 1

Hi everyone!

I had a lot of fun writing this story, and i hope you will have just as much fun reading it. The whole thing is so hush-hush in the show, i thought it would be interesting to see what would come of the real story. Thanks!

Please enjoy and review!

love&peace&joy

Cora did not hate her husband. But she didn't love him either. No, she didn't love him. Not really. Not the way she had loved Loren.

Cora was the youngest of three sisters. All bloody, messy, high risk births. On lazy mornings when their mother wasn't so hungover that she couldn't get out of bed, she would tell her daughters of the evil hex put on the family when they were still over in Spain. It dictated that the youngest daughter would in turn bring forth three more daughters of her own when the time came. No more. No less. And no boys. This terrified Cora, not because her mothers was a particularly good storyteller, but because of what it foresaw for her.

The family lived on a spacious estate in New York. A few hours outside the bustling city. Cora's mother had been the precious youngest daughter of an extremely well to do lawyer. Her father had served the country as a soldier early in life so he could retire to his enormous fortune (inherited form a grudging father) at the ripe old age of twenty-nine. With the spoils combined, the Levinsons could afford to raise their daughters in sweltering luxury. And enjoy a good many expensive parties themselves.

The oldest of Cora's sisters, Madge, was ravishingly beautiful in face...not so much in body. Her numerous rolls of fat swayed as she walked and her ankles were a non ending constant torment to Mrs. Levinson. But i t was nothing a few good corsets (and a good lot of clamping herself to the bedpost and having the servants pull until a size 18" waist was acquired) and some longer dresses could not conceal. Because of this, she was quickly married off to a doting, pasty man who was so much fatter than herself, so he could not possibly be bothered by her own size. She always said he made her very happy. No one ever believed her.

Her next sister was pale, sallow and all together unhealthy looking in both figure and contour. She was the least payed attention to growing up, and was quiet, but lacked the intensity that often made quiet people bearable. When men looked at Rosemary, they saw a woman who could not match them mentally, physically, or emotionally. They passed her by. She did cause a bit of an uproar at age Twenty-two, when she mysteriously disappeared in France one fall season. She came home exactly two years later in the full garb of a nun. This was a grand surprise for daddy Levinson, for he had raised the girls as god fearing Protestants.

As her father liked to put it, his little Cora had stolen all the beauty from Rosemary, and all the brains from Madge. It was true that where the other sisters lacked, the youngest Levinson girl always delivered. She had high cheekbones, long dark eyelashes, thin red lips and rolling, shiney, sensual hair. Her mind was sharp as a freshly sharpened razor, and she never failed to be able to articulate her thoughts tactfully and with finesse. This is what Loren often said he loved best about his petit fiance. But more on that in a minute.

Cora claimed the highest quota of affection from her father, and thus had a very desirable dowery. A shrewd mind a suspicious nature had to be adopted when at parties or when courting, for many of the men who tried to charm her were just after her money. She had to be careful.

She met Loren at an outing, the first summer she came out in good society. The tall semi-Irish gentleman had introduced himself cordially, found her a glass of something good, and then dove right into a lively story about how he would catch goats on his grandpa's farm as a boy. She was so taken aback by his vivacious attentive manner that she quite forgot herself and spent the rest of the evening with him, even refusing to dance with other men so she could sit and just be in his radiating presence. He was lean and had a toothy grin which she delighted in. He would often run his hand through his spiky red hair and say, "So what's new with you?" in such a casual, perfect way, Cora would almost cry.

In a way he almost seemed too big for his clothes half the time, even though he was a very slender man. He would pull at his tie and adjust the creases in the pants and stretch his waistcoat, as if he was always constricted in some way. He loved to ride, and taught Cora how to himself. Many happy hours were spent in the rolling acres of his estate, to the clip-clop of horse hooves and the gentle autumn wind that so characterized England. They spent so much time together out there that the servants began to talk. Just what exactly was this young couple doing for all these hours unsupervised? We have nothing but the fact that Loren was a self-categorized gentleman, and that Cora never got pregnant during those gay, sunny months.

Everyone said they couple was a match made in heaven. With the money they could keep Loren's cozy estate, the family's seemed to tolerate each other well enough, and no one could think of any two they had ever seen more madly in love than Cora Levinson and Loren O'Darren.

This is why it came as such a shock when Loren was suddenly killed in a fiery train wreck.

You can expect the next addition next week, probably Tuesday. Thank you so much for reading (and hopefully reviewing!). I really hope you loved it, and are ready for more:)


	2. Chapter 2

Hi everyone!

This is the last installment. I was going to wait to post it until my posting day like a good little child, but I couldn't wait. I hope you read, enjoy, and review!

love&peace&joy ^..^

Cora stayed in her bedroom for two weeks without opening the door to anyone, not even the servants to change her bed. When she finally emerged, gaunt and sickly, her father could only convince her to manage down a few bites a day, just enough to keep her heart beating. Rosemary came home upon her mother's request and tried to pray with Cora. Cora just withdrew into herself more.

It took five years for her to even think of trying again. She had considered never marrying, but she knew that to die old and alone was not what Loren would have wanted. She would often say to her family, "I will still marry, but i shall never love.", which would make her mother sigh and argue and her father groan and frown. They could never understand the unbreakable bond that had connected Cora and Loren. She had changed in those years. Become harder, more brittle. Everyone could see and sense the change in the girl. Her mother sent her off at the end of her five year grieving period to London, hoping that the reintroduction into normal life might brighten her spirits.

The girl detested her mother's doing this to her, and was determined not to have a good time at all costs. Unfortunately, the extravagant trip included many mandatory parties, at which most of the time, one had to work to remain in a somber state. For most of them she sat in a dark corner and sipped white bubbly wine for the whole night, trying to be noticed to some man would come up and request a dance, and she would have the devilish pleasure of refusing him.

While Cora was sitting on a pale satin loveseat at a glamorous evening party in London, thinking about nothing in particular, being miserable, and swinging her sequined masquerade mask back and forth by the dull green ribbons, Robert Grantham spotted her.

Robert Grantham needed money. And had no reliable way of acquiring any. His father was the begrudging owner of Downton Abbey. He watched the house drain away his fortune, the process sped up by having to raise his two mediocre sons. Rhynehart Grantham began to hate the house for the torment it caused him. But Robert, his youngest, loved the huge manner.

He loved its grand interior and lush, sprawling land. He visited the people in the village, and gave aid in the hospital. He savored every bite of food he took in the grand dining room where the elaborate candelabra made the silverware shine. He could easily envision his own little spry crop of laughing boys running up and down the stairs and through the garden, there mini neck ties flapping. He wanted his wife to rest her eyes in the jewel kissed bedroom, and be able to devote a room to just marble or wood statues of her. He loved the house so much, but had no means to pay for its needs. The list of yearly repairs and upkeeps sprawled off the oaken tables in his study. No matter how he crunched the numbers, his meager inheritance just would not stretch to cover the cost.

At this party in London, he sat down next to this raven haired American girl, and smiled. She smiled weakly back. He had caught her off guard. She had not had time to put up the thick wall of protection around her still vulnerable heart. That tender, kind smile struck home. It was not an excited, energized Loren smile, but it was warm and inviting and had everything a passable smile should have, she decided. Pleasantries were exchanged, and slowly, Cora realized that she didn't even want to put up her wall anymore.

They talked and talked, mostly about her, which she hated, because then she had to dance around Loren, even though it felt like he had been her entire life. It left quite a gap. He asked her to dance, and she agreed. The night finally ended when her chaperone had to drag her off the dance floor. She had meant to only dance to one song, and then politely excuse herself. But by the second spin around she was totally entranced.

Robert was like a tree, a staff, a chair. He was so solid and reliable, a shining life ring in a frothing ocean of sorrow and doubt. She wanted to wrap her thin arms around his thick frame and be held up, hide behind this gentle giant and let the storm pass.

At the end of the night, Robert was under a spell too. This vivid, shapely girl with the tender laugh and dainty manner. He wanted to hold her hand and tell her everything would end all right. He wanted to act manly and unafraid around her, have her rely totally and freely upon him and only him. He loved the way her eyes would look into his as she told a quaint joke, like he was the only person who mattered in the world. Of course, the fact remained that he knew next to nothing about her life, he realized, even though they had spent the majority of the time talking about her. He went to his buddy, Fitch. "Fitch, do you know who that pretty little thing was that just left? Cora Levinson? In the Blue and black dress? With the feather?"

Fitch nodded, and then told him everything he knew about the Levinsons, including the presumably large sum the dowry was to be, and ending with, "Everyone and their doctors uncle has tried to woo her. I wouldn't get too invested. It seems like there was some death in the family that the girl still hasn't gotten over. Its too bad."

But Robert Grantham felt like he had his work cut out for him. A beautiful, lively girl, and the money to keep his estate going in one sparkling package. He could not have asked for anything more. Robert had practice with wooing girls. He didn't really try. A little attention there, a compliment there, a sip of red wine here...And Cora was soft, pliable dough in his beefy hands.

Their wedding was held at Downton Abbey. A rather elaborate event. Cora had dreamed of her wedding all her life, and now that it finally arrived, she was puzzled to find that it was disappointing and even borderline dull. She kept thinking she saw Loren's elastic in the crowd, kept thinking she heard his musical voice humming to the organ, even wondering if maybe he would walk through the heavy maple doors of the church and run down the aisle to embrace her. She kept having to remind herself of all the wonderful things Robert and she had done together-the parties, the dancing, the laughing. But little memories of Loren kept popping up in between the thoughts, like bitter bubbles in glistening champagne. The way he looked, against the setting sun, the way his teeth glinted when he was out of doors, the goofy little jokes he would crack when he thought no one else was listening.

But she bit her tongue and looked into the face of her soon-to-be husband, and then it wasn't so bad. It was easier to forget when she had his full attention. The Minister pronounced them man and wife, and Cora's fate was sealed forever.

He didn't make a bad husband. This was mostly due to the fact that they rarely saw each other except at their evening meal and even then, there was a long table of space between the silent couple. Cora even had her own separate bedroom. It was only about a year and a half later, after the bloody birth of their first child that Robert felt any genuine feelings for his willowy wife.

Mary came in October. No one would ever mistake her for a spring born. The doctor started to put his tools away, and whispered, "Lord Grantham, you can come in now." Robert padded in. Slowly, anxiously. The screams that had racked the house had shaken him. He was genuinely worried for his small wifes safety. He knew horrifying, gory tales of birth, how women had died and bled to death, even with the doctor there. Even as he braced himself, he could never be prepared for the sight that overtook him.

No rusty blood or other nasty bodily fluids met his eyes. But the young mother, looking very frail and tired. She was in a silky, clean wrapper with the baby sucking away at her left breast. Cora was fast asleep and didn't even hear Robert come in. The baby was so small, and so beautiful, that he was overcome with one of his infrequent rushes of ecstasy.

"What's the sex?" He asked the doctor fervently.

"Female. Hard birth. shes going to have to take it easy for the next few months."

"Of course, of course." Robert reached out his fingers, and for the first time in his life they were acctually trembling. He touched the tiny person he had, himself, created. Cora awoke at this, and smiled warmly at her husband. Robert felt a strange flutter inside his stout chest.

"I love you, Cora." He whispered in complete earnestly, and stooped to kiss her.

"Oh Robert." She murmured when he kneeled back, pulling up a little lavender stool. At this little Mary awoke and started to bawl in that tremulous, thin wail of a fresh and tender infant.

They were all together and all, for the first time, a real family. Robert brought her supper to Cora and fed it to her in little bites (she was very worn out). He changed the babies diaper and rocked her until she fell asleep in his arms. Then he sat by Cora's bed and talked and talked. They made up for a whole years worth of conversations in one evening. They murmured in whispers until their mouths grew dry and Cora started to nod off. Then he tucked her gently into bed and went to sleep himself in an overstuffed armchair by the window of the bedroom. He found he couldn't bare to be separated from his frail Cora or his fragile baby, even by a few sheets of wallpaper.

They went on to have many more children. Exactly three girls, no more no less, and no boys. They were all bloody, messy, high risk births, but unlike Mrs. Levinson, Cora was fiercely proud and frighteningly protective of her little heard of females. Some days all the girls would pile onto her wide, poofy bed and ask to hear the story of the hex. Mary would sit right next to her mother and hold her hand, as if to say it was all alright and she was there. Edith would tremble and Sybil would have to hold her older sister in her arms to get her to quiet, all the while saying how she would be glad to have that many girls. How she loved all children, no matter the gender.

So no, Cora never did love her husband to the extent of feeling she had felt toward Loren. But she loved her children, and she learned to love her husband. And that was quite enough for Cora Grantham.

Maybe it would not have been for Cora O'Darren, though.

So that's the end! I hope you liked it. Please review! It takes maybe thirty seconds of your time and it really makes my day to read them all. Look out for my next Downton Abbey story which will be posted late August/early September: Downtown Abbey: Rose Comes To Downton


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